


Geraskier One-Shot Collection

by bisexual_catastrophe



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Cheating, Fluff, Geraskier (The Witcher), Implied Smut, M/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:20:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 7,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27226441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bisexual_catastrophe/pseuds/bisexual_catastrophe
Summary: A collection of one-shots between the famous Witcher, Geralt of Rivia, and his wonderful companion, Jaskier.Note: There will be no lemons, limes, or smuts. The only explicit parts of these shots will be language.
Relationships: Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon & Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Kudos: 11





	1. Killing Rumors

**Author's Note:**

> Modern!AU  
> HighschoolTeacher!Jaskier

Oxenfurt High School is known as the best high school in all of the Redanian cities. Their graduation rate is at a lovely 89%, which some deemed to be impossible, but the ways of teaching and the teachers there helped that percentage skyrocket. Then there was the variety of what the high school taught- just about everything one could think of.

There was a few specific teachers that helped with this, but most had their eye on one of them.

"Have you seen the way Professor Julian looks?"

"Gods, his hair is so perfect- and his eyes!"

"I'm not gay- but I'd take a few rounds with him."

"Bro, you could not sound gayer saying that. There's not a 'no homo' to be added in that."

Professor Julian Pankratz was usually the talk of the school, in more ways than one. The kindness and patience he showed his students, how he was able to be chill no matter what, the way he taught even the hardest part of the subjects given, but most of the talk pointed to the way he looked.

His chestnut brown hair with bangs that were always swept to the side, his sparkling azure eyes that lit up no matter how he felt, the occasional black eyeliner that brought out his eyes, and his wonderful outfits.

"If only he wasn't married, imagine a life with him!"

Professor Julian was used to hearing all this talk, and it made him laugh sometimes. At other times, it tired him because none of them would focus on the lesson.

"Could anyone tell me about the Slaughter of Cintra?" The professor stood up from his seat and moved his hands to rest against his back. He was taking over a lesson for a friend who was sick, history wasn't his best subject- but no one else wanted to cover the lessons.

No one raised their hand or answered out of turn. This had been going on throughout the day, perhaps it had been a bad idea to take over.

"Professor?" Oh thank the gods, someone raised their hand. "You say your married, and you have a ring on your finger, but how come you never talk about her?"

Julian widened his eyes and choked on air. "Why does my personal life matter to any of you?" He should know the answer, but perhaps it was better to ask than to continue to listen.

The girl who raised her hand allowed it to fall and tilted her head. "My friends and I have started to believe you're not married, and you're just using an excuse to not accept another's love."

 _Ouch_. How offensive! And a child at her age- a senior of this high school, the _nerve_ in that child! "This ring is anything but fake, you do not have the right to push to know my personal life."

Loud knocking interrupted the girl from speaking again. _Thank the gods._ Julian walked to the door, ignoring the glare he received from the child. "A-Ah, Geralt! W-What're you doing here?"

The professor backed away from the door as the Witcher stepped forward. His students rose from their seats to see, they heard of the famous Geralt of Rivia- what was he doing in a high school?

"Can I not visit my husband at work?" A smirk had reached his lips. He had heard the rumors of his beloved, and he was here to stop it all.

The students dropped their jaws at it. They had never thought of husband- no- they all assumed he was married to a woman!

Julian couldn't help but smile back. "I suppose you can," he looked down at his husband's hands. "Oh, my lunch! Is that why you came?"

Geralt grunted. "Sort of." His amber eyes turned to the students. "Have fun with history, love." He set the paper bag down in Julian's hands, then gave him a peck to the lips. "I'll see you at home." Then he was gone.

"Well, that was eventful!" Julian grinned and turned back to his students. He took note of their surprise, and he couldn't help but feel smug- he had won- Geralt had killed the rumor. "Now," he set his lunch down on his desk. "Can anyone tell me about the Slaughter of Cintra?"


	2. His Bard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based off of a word prompt: "I think that's a little more than a cut." Also: I didn't know what to name it, so...

"What happened to you?!" Geralt immediately dropped his swords and rushed over to the bed.

Jaskier was lying down, hands clutched onto his side. Hot tears were streaming down his cheeks, and a groan left his lips when his hands were removed.

A large, nasty cut was revealed, small but extremely deep. It was gushing blood onto the white sheets the bard laid in, along with small bits of dirt that were mixed in the red. A dagger or sword had caused this, and whoever has wielded it fought dirty.

"It's just a little cut, Geralt," Jaskier breathed. He believed he could stop the bleeding on his own before the Witcher arrived- the last thing he wanted to do was worry him. "I-I'll be fine..." He trailed off and started to close his eyes, the world was becoming blurry.

But he was slapped awake. "I think that's a little more than a cut, Jaskier." Geralt growled. His anger was clear as he applied a cloth to stop the bleeding- he was pressing it hard onto the wound, making the brunette groan in pain. Nobody hurts his bard. Nobody hurts his bard and gets away with it. Nobody hurts his bard and gets away with it _alive_. "Why the fuck do you have a cut on your side, Jaskier?" He emphasized the word, mocking the bard.

The brunette tilted his head and tried to recall the fight. "I-I suppose it all started at the tavern..."

_-Twenty minutes earlier-_

" _A friend of humanity..."_ The crowd erupted in claps, whistles, and hoots. Of course ' _Toss A Coin To Your Witcher'_ was a crowd pleaser, it earned him coin and it made others happy- well... some people.

That had been Jaskier's final song for the night. A few complained about how he only sang for an hour, but the sun had already set over the horizon, meaning Geralt would most likely be at the inn by now.

"How can ya do that?" The bard stopped walking and turned around. A ginger man around his age was leaning up against the tavern wall, spinning a dagger between his fingers. "Sing praises of that monster when he could snap yer neck at any second?"

Jaskier frowned. "Geralt's not a monster, sir. And he wouldn't do that." He hated when people got like this. The Witcher was in town to help them and they had the balls to say something like that. "Would you rather him not be here and the murders continue?"

It was at this time that Jaskier realized his mouth would get him hurt- not that he didn't know it already. The Witcher had warned him many times about it, but, of course, he should've known better than to say that- the bard didn't know how to shut his mouth.

The ginger stopped spinning the dagger and stood up, holding it closer to his chest. "Ya've got some fucking nerve saying that," he pointed his dagger at Jaskier. "The Witcher's a monster, and yer just a whore following him around."

The bard couldn't move, the accusation was moving to his head. So with that, the man lunged.

"Why didn't you call for me?" Geralt asked angrily. His expression was hard, as if he was trying to hide how he was really feeling- but the bard could see through his amber eyes.

Jaskier closed his eyes for a moment, before letting out a shaky sigh. "I don't know." His answer was honest, he really didn't.

"Hmm..." Geralt moves Jaskier's hand to rest on the wound. "I'll be right back, keep your hands there." Then he left the room.

The Witcher had two objectives now: get some sort of alcohol to clean the wound, then find the bastard who had the nerve to touch his bard.

A ginger man who had been seen near the tavern. Considering the fact that most in this town were brunettes and blondes- the man would be quite easy to find.

"A pint of ale," Geralt demanded to the woman keeping the bar. She looked up, saw his expression, then fumbled around to get one as quickly as possible. Everyone else noticed the change of temperature in the room and grew quiet. "Have you seen a man with ginger hair? He might have left the bar after the bard did?"

The woman bobbed her head up and down while giving Geralt the tankard. "Y-You're looking for M-Michael, he's a-at the last h-house on the right." The Witcher nodded and grumbled a 'thanks' then tossed her a coin.

Geralt knew to be quick about the situation. Jaskier needed his wound cleaned as soon as possible, and dwelling to much on this situation would be a terrible choice.

Michael was outside of his so-called "home" holding a bottle of alcohol and arguing with a young woman.

"Why would you- have you gone mad?!" The woman screamed, smacking the bottle out of the man's hand. "Hurting the Witcher's bard- you have a death sentence!" Ah, so the woman had seen it. Geralt recognized her as the town leaders' daughter. "He's here to help us- not to hurt us, Michael!"

The ginger rolled his eyes. "He's killed people, Marline! How are we to know if he won't kill us too?!"

That was the last straw. Geralt emerged from the dark, his expression was cold and his lips were curved up- like he was snarling. Marline stepped away from Michael as soon as she saw him.

"If I wanted to kill you, I would've done so already," Geralt growled, towering over the ginger. "Though I'm having second thoughts about you, _Michael_." His tone was venomous, showing how pissed he was.

Michael suddenly felt small- like a sheep facing a wolf. "P-Please d-don't-" he was cut short when Geralt slammed him into the house's wall.

"Don't what? You were going to do the same to my bard," he spat, tightening his grip on the man's neck. "I solved your murders, but if you had killed Jaskier- there was going to be one more body added to the pile." He released Michael when he heard the man's breathing begin to slow. "But he's alive- and I'm not a monster."

He picked up the tankard that had been set on top of a barrel and speed-walked back to the inn. He had spent enough time finding the ginger bastard-

"Jaskier!" The Witcher hurried over to his bard, lightly smacking his face in an attempt to wake him up. "Wake up, dammit!"

The brunette's eyes fluttered open, and the smallest smile came onto his lips. "Ah, Geralt, welcome back." His words were slurred, the loss of blood had gotten to his head. "Is everything supposed to go dark?"

Geralt ignored him and took a clean cloth from his bag, then poured the ale into it. "This is going to sting," he murmured.

And just as he said, when the cloth met his wound, Jaskier hissed, clenching his teeth together in an attempt to not scream. "Fuck, Geralt." Fresh tears started to fall from his eyes.

The Witcher hushed his bard while dabbing the cloth onto the wound. He knew it hurt, he knew the wound was bad, but it was more the reason to clean it now. "It's almost over, Jask..."

Jaskier had closed his eyes again- squeezed shut while he groaned in pain.

"Alright, I'm done." Geralt stood up and kissed the brunette's brow. "Stay still, it needs to breath tonight, then we'll wrap it up tomorrow." A hand caught his wrist before he could go any further.

"Will you... just lay with me? I don't..." Jaskier closed his eyes. "Just lay with me..." it was a distraction, he hoped. Last time he 'fell asleep', he felt the world slipping from his fingers. Focusing on his Witcher instead of the wound on his waist.

Geralt hummed, meaning 'yes'. He put the supplies down on the table then climbed over his bard, taking the side where the cut wasn't visible. Jaskier let out a shaky sigh and leaned onto Geralt, closing his eyes again- this time, knowing that he wouldn't be alone and he would wake up in the real world.


	3. Excuses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Person A is on a ladder decorating for Person C's birthday and Person B keeps telling them to fix it just so they can keep staring at Person A's ass.

Jaskier is the Queen of decorating for special occasions. He would always go to the nearest party store and buy everything needed (sometimes things they didn't need), then spend most of the day preparing for the occasion. Even if no one wanted him to decorate- he did it anyway.

Cirilla's ninth birthday was no different. It was also a birthday for the gods' sake- who wouldn't decorate for such a thing? People who didn't know how to have fun, was Jaskier's answer. (And she loved each party he threw)

"Geralt, will you help me set up the ladder so I can hang the strings and balloons?" Thank the gods his boyfriend has the day off too, an extra pair of hands is always nice. Well- if he was called for a case, then he needed to go in, but that was awfully rare on his days off.

Geralt grunted in response. If he had known that he would be spending his day off preparing for his daughter's party with Jaskier- he would've asked the chief to let him be there anyway. As much as he loved the brunette, preparing for parties wasn't his style. (And Jaskier always went a little over the top)

Once the ladder was set up, Jaskier took careful steps to make it up there, a nail in his mouth, and a hammer in his free hand. The decorations that needed to be hung were on the table below him, which Geralt would be giving him.

It only took a few minutes to put everything together, but Geralt wasn't quite concerned about the time, though his daughter would be home in twenty minutes. His eyes were focused on the ass above him, something that he didn't want to take his eyes off of.

"Geralt? Does everything look right? Like the banner and the balloons- do they look good together?" Jaskier always loved a second opinion, even when his boyfriend didn't give two shits about it.

Geralt hummed. "No, I think the balloons need to be more spread out." He didn't take his eyes off Jaskier's ass, not worried about the brunette figuring it out either.

A groan left the brunette's lips. "Very well, if you're absolutely sure." He reached up, standing on his toes a bit to move the balloons a bit away from one another. "How about now?"

"Hmm... the strings, they're a bit out of place..." his voice sounded distant, like he was stuck in his own little trance. And that got Jaskier's attention.

"Geralt Rivia! This is serious shit, stop staring at my ass and answer realistically!" Jaskier huffed, kicking his boyfriend's chin with his heel. "Everything was fine before, wasn't it?"

The Witcher grumbled a 'yes'. He should've known that wouldn't work too well.

Jaskier huffed again and stepped down the ladder. "You can stare later, darling, and maybe do a little more." He lightly patted his cheek. "Now, help me put this ladder away, Ciri and Yennefer will be back soon."


	4. Heat Of The Moment - Part 1

Emotions, emotional attachment, feelings in general, the L-word, _him_.

"You're going to end up burning holes on my table with your glare- and that's gonna piss me off." Yennefer pointed out with a warning tone. She looked down at the wine glass in her hand, then sighed. "Is it him again?"

Geralt scowled. "It's always him, Yen." He answered as if it was obvious- which it was at this point. "Everywhere I go, I see his face- it's not fucking fair. And it's really starting to bother me, Lambert started talking about his performance and I just about..." the grip he had on his tankard tightened. The witch across from him knew the rest of the answer.

Julian Alfred Pankratz, or Jaskier as he liked to go by, was always taking over the Witcher's thoughts. A contract, an inn, another bard playing- the brunette's beautiful face and wonderful voice-

"Dammit, what am I supposed to do?" Geralt growled, furrowing his eyebrows together in anger. "I haven't seen him since we parted- and it's fucking killing me."

The witch's nose twitched. "Guess your 'one blessing' turned out to be a curse, hm?" She swirled the wine around and sighed. "Stop moping and go find him, Geralt. I'm tired of listening to your whining about this."

After downing the rest of his drink, Geralt stormed out of Yennefer's home. When he reached the stables, Roach gave him a look that said ' _We just got here and we're leaving?_ ' to which the Witcher grunted and climbed atop of her, giving her a small pat.

"Let's go find Jaskier."

-

If anyone asked, Jaskier was doing quite well on his own. His pockets were semi full with coin, the crowds he played for were always pleased with his performances, and occasionally, some nights were spent with men and women.

But most didn't know that half the bard's mind was set on his old frie- companion, Geralt of Rivia. The venomous tone he had, his one blessing, the fact that he was hopelessly in love with the Witcher...

It didn't help that the other Witchers would sometimes be in the same town as him and sit through his performances. They didn't say a single word to him- which made it worse in a way- and it was also that none of them were ever Geralt.

Jaskier groaned and rubbed his eyes, flopping down face-first onto his bed. He was love sick- and well, the feeling all this made his stomach twist in every way possible. It hurt.

"Damn him. Damn my feelings. Damn my stupid heart!" He picked up a pillow and threw it at the door, immediately turning to smash his face back into the bed. "Damn it all..."


	5. Heat Of The Moment - Part 2

It didn't take long for Geralt to find information on the bard. People were quick to answer, him dealing with the contracts given, and some people noticed the bard's absent mind (people who had spent the night with him- he was sometimes drunk and told his story) and they wanted to help.

The last place a young man mentioned was Kaedwen, which was not too far from the Witcher's location.

"He misses you, you know?" The young man, Thomas, told Geralt in the tavern. They were sitting side by side, two tankards of ale in front of them. "He spoke of his feelings... he told me how you two split up, and the effect that had on him."

Geralt raised an eyebrow. "Jaskier told you what happened?" The man hummed into his ale, swirling it around. "I..."

Thomas smiled. "I don't expect you to answer that, it's your personal life after all." He set down a few coins on the counter after finishing his drink. "Best of luck finding him, Witcher. Gods know you both need one another."

-

It didn't take too long to reach the bard's location. As said before, people were quick to help him, and Geralt knew the way to Kaedwen like the back of his hand (as he did with many other towns and cities).

The innkeep looked at the Witcher with a smile when he approached, asking for a room. She gave him a key to the room right next to the bard's, as a small feeling in her gut told her that they were to be reunited.

"There aren't any contracts for you here, Witcher." Her smile stayed when his reply was a simple grunt. "He just left here a few hours ago before you arrived."

Geralt mumbled a 'thank you', remembering the words Thomas said to him. People wanted to help, eager to get the two back together- this innkeep just so happened to be one of them.

After setting all of his weapons down (except for one sword- just in case), Geralt left the inn and made his way to the tavern. The bard's voice was already loud and clear to him, he was thanking everyone- meaning the Witcher had missed all of his songs.

Now Jaskier was making his way over to the bar, sitting down next to a young woman with ginger hair. A large smile was on his lips as he started to talk to her, but the smile didn't reach his eyes, it never did. No one could really tell, however, only about three or four people ever commented on it- the rest seemed to only care about what they were going to get from him.

"Ah, Witcher, what can I get you?" Jaskier closed his mouth and froze, releasing his grip on the woman next to him.

"A pint of ale." _Geralt._ The ginger next to the bard frowned, seeing that he had lost interest in her pretty quick. She huffed and left, that wanting look written on his expression was not towards her.

Jaskier slowly turned around in his seat, his azure eyes wide with shock. His lips parted when the Witcher didn't even glance back at him. But the look in those amber eyes was clear- he wanted to look, he wanted to say something-

And Geralt did, but the words that he wanted to say were not to be heard from others. No, those words were to be said to Jaskier- and Jaskier alone.

"Thank you for the ale," Jaskier stood up from his seat, tossing a bit of coin he had earned onto the counter. He knew that if he left the tavern, Geralt would follow- the Witcher's expression was quite obvious that he wanted to.

Geralt did the same after Jaskier left. A coin, the groan coming from the chair, and the sound of the tavern's door slamming shut.

-

The Witcher had rehearsed this moment over and over with Roach. Of course, the horse never replied the way Jaskier would- she couldn't speak like he could- and she sure as hell didn't have the bard's looks. And there he was, comparing his old companion to his horse.

"Are you going to say something, or are you just going to follow me?" Jaskier's sweet melodious voice snapped Geralt back to reality. He had turned around to face Geralt, his expression hard and his eyes cold. They had shown wanting and sadness at the tavern- perhaps it had been a mere show for others to see. "Well?"

Geralt looked at the ground below him, trying to remember what he wanted to say. Damn his sudden lack of memory. "I'm sorry," he started, looking up for a brief moment before turning to look behind the brunette so it looked like he was making eye contact. "For everything I said... it wasn't a blessing- it was a curse. I was angry and..." he trailed off again, trying to find more words.

"Needed someone to lash out on?" Jaskier finished quietly. His hard expression had fallen, his eyes turning to match the ones he had at the tavern. "Heat of the moment?" He knew that the Witcher would struggle with the words, not really having to do this before.

"Yes." His answer was quick- as it was obvious. "I didn't... nothing was your fault- nothing is your fault." He paused and thought about that phrase. "Heat of the moment."

Jaskier wanted to be angrier. He wanted to lash out just like Geralt had done. He wanted to continue to keep distance and forget this all happened- but there was no doing that. It just couldn't happen, because he understood that the Witcher truly didn't know how to do this.

"Well its a good thing I love you than, hm?" Jaskier shut his mouth as soon as those words left his lips, he had spoken without even thinking on what to say.

Excruciating silence fell between the two. Jaskier turned around and held a hand over his mouth, trying to put together something to say. His mouth would one day be the death of him.

A large hand fell onto the bard's soldier, slowly grasping it so he could turn around. "Say it again." His voice was quiet, as though speaking any louder would break something- or someone.

"W-Well it's a good thing I-I love you?" Damn my stuttering. Jaskier kicked himself internally, he hadn't spoken like this in a really long time. He hadn't felt like this in a really long time either. "Look, G-Geralt-"

"I love you too." It came out as a mumble, but Jaskier was close enough to hear every word. "I love you too."

Relief washed over both of them. Geralt let his barrier fall, allowed his emotions to take over- said the L-word just for Jaskier, the man he had grown to love over the years.  
  
And Jaskier, he had let go of fear and said three words that he'd been wanting to say for years. It made him happy; happy that Geralt felt the same, and that maybe things would fall back to normal- with a few exceptions, of course.

With those words, Geralt let go of the brunette's shoulder and allowed it to fall to his side. A silent understanding that they would discuss this further tomorrow was passed.

They both, at first, had a feeling that the quarrel on the mountain wouldn't separate them for long. It was just as Jaskier had said-

It had been the heat of the moment.


	6. Violence Isn't Always The Answer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Homopobia
> 
> Also: I wrote this during Pride Month soo... that's why the setting is like that.

"Geralt, darling, please? We'll only be there for an hour or two."

When Jaskier heard of the pride parade hitting New York, he immediately went to his boyfriend about going. He's been to quite a few in his time and was aware of how they would be, but thought about how different it would be with someone by his side.

The only problem was convincing Geralt to go. He continued to counter with the amount of people that would be there, crowds not being his style.

"Geralt, it's June- pride month." Jaskier put his hands on his hips, just about done. "I have gone every year since I turned 19, they're not that bad!" He didn't want to mention that some people who attended were homophobic, he had always been good at ignoring people like that. "It's a lot of fun, we can even take Ciri with us! She needs to get out of the house anyway."

Geralt pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing. "If Ciri agrees to come, I'll go. If not," he stood up from the couch. "I'm not going."  
  


"I'll go!" Ciri hopped up from her bed and clapped her hands together. "I've always wanted to go to one of these, see how it's like."

Right after that, they were in the car, on the way to the parade. Jaskier dressed himself in a way to show who he was, painting his colors onto a heart that was placed onto his right cheek. He had also colored his nails, wanting to go all out. Ciri and Jaskier managed to hold Geralt down long enough to paint his flag over both his cheeks, his anger faltered after seeing that both his favorite people were happy. That's all that mattered to him.

His happiness did alter when they pulled up to a decent parking space. There were people _everywhere._

"Dad?" Ciri tapped his hand, forcing him out of his thoughts. "Just stay close to us, okay?" She tried her brightest smile, putting him at ease once more.

Waltzing out of the car, Jaskier looked around with a large smile on his face. This would be his first time with a significant other, each year he had gone with friends which already wasn't the same.

Ciri motioned him over, mouthing 'Dad needs comfort' because Geralt would never admit it himself. That was the phrase for 'hold his hand to calm him down'.

"We'll stay with everyone for an hour, is that okay?" Jaskier asked his boyfriend after giving his hand a squeeze of reassurance. Geralt mumbled a 'fine', which made Jaskier smile.

Everything started off calm. The three walked hand-in-hand with the rest of the crowd, talking to people around them about anything and everything. Ciri talked with other kids about her dads and mom while Jaskier talked to couples about how they met and other things.

But when people started shouting profanities towards those participating in the parade... Geralt had a hard time keeping his anger at a minimum.

"Geralt, darling, just ignore them." Jaskier whispered to his boyfriend. "It wouldn't be good to start anything." He felt bad for not acknowledging and doing something about what was happening around them, but violence didn't seem like the answer at the moment.

Well, all until someone decided to say something to Jaskier and Ciri

"You show you love a woman and a man, but you're not with either. You're with a monster, and by doing that, you're ruining a child's life." A man around their age had made his way to their side, spitting his venomous words in Jaskier's face.

Despite seeing the pleads to not engage in his boyfriend's eyes, Geralt yanked Jaskier and Ciri away from the man, grabbed him by his shirt's collar, then brought his knee to meet the man's crotch.

People around them 'oo'ed' as the man doubled over in pain, hissing a spew of curses under his breath. Geralt kicked under his jaw then squatted to meet the man's face.

"Insult my boyfriend and daughter again, and I'll ruin more than I've done." Geralt growled, his amber eyes burning with anger and warning. The man nodded and scrambled away, still holding a hand to where Geralt had kneed him.

The scene had stirred quite a few other disagreements between the two sides. Violence truly hadn't been the answer, for it had only brought more conflict.

"Well, I suggest we leave now before the authorities arrive," Jaskier said, moving away from new brawls in the crowd. Ciri nodded in agreement, looking to her other dad who still looked extremely pissed off. "C'mon, Geralt, we can't be here when they ask how this all started."

While they hurried back to where they had parked, Jaskier talked Geralt's ear off on how everything was supposed to stay peaceful. It wasn't that he wasn't thankful for what his boyfriend had done, it was the matter of him starting something that didn't need to happen.

"Next time, ignore those comments." Jaskier said once they got into the car. "If you always do that, Cirilla and I could get pulled in, and I'd rather not have that." Geralt grunted and stared out the window. "As I said before, violence isn't always the answer."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idk where the hell I was going with this one, but I hope you enjoyed anyway...


	7. Before He Cheats - Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd suggest listening to the song: "Before He Cheats" by Carrie Underwood for this.
> 
> She is the inspiration after all.
> 
> Warning: A shitload of angst

Julian Pankratz didn't have trust issues. He was actually one that trusted quite easily, it was just something that was a part of him. There were a few key points in that sentence: _didn't_ , _was_ , and the past tense form of _trust_.

His boyfriend, Geralt Rivia, is a detective for the police force. There are, of course, nights where he can't make it home on time due to an investigation or extra paper work. Julian put his trust in that's all his boyfriend did when he called to say: "I need to stay at the office for a few extra hours, I'll be home as soon as I'm finished."

_Right now, he's probably slow dancing_  
_With a bleached-blond tramp_  
_And she's probably getting frisky_

All relationships have fights; small issues about not seeing each other often enough, who did what and why they lied about it, and the ever so popular: cheating.

_Right now, he's probably buying_  
_Her some fruity little drink_  
_'Cause she can't shoot whiskey_

Now, Julian has his trust in Geralt of never doing so, and vise versa. They spoke about it before, as all couples should, when the problem is hinted at. Each side always points at where the other is wrong: " _She doesn't even like men_ ", " _He just got out of a bad relationship, I'm with him for comfort_ ", and the usual " _She/He's just a friend_ ".

_Right now, he's probably up behind her_  
_With a pool-stick_  
_Showing her how to shoot a combo_

The easiest way to find out if one is cheating on the other is through evidence. Julian settles in thanking the gods as well as cursing them when Triss Merigold sent him a text with a photo of Geralt getting too-friendly with a woman that he damn well knew that the Witcher didn't know.

The musician was frozen at first. 'Geralt' in the photo could've been a man with the same face and hair, right? No... so that followed with a pool of tears streaming down Julian's cheeks and a series of sobs mixed with hiccups.

_And he don't know_

Then came the anger.

Julian tossed his phone where he had put his dirty clothes then cleaned himself up in the bath. After putting on his night clothes, he stormed out of his apartment and made his way toward an anniversary gift that sat parked in their garage.

_I dug my key into the side_  
_Of his pretty little souped-up four-wheel drive_  
_Carved my name into his leather seats_

With the apartment key in hand, Julian dragged it across the beautiful black paint job, ignoring the unholy screeching that responded to his actions. Each scrap formed a letter, which soon formed into a word: _C H E A T E R_.

After finishing his art on the outside, Julian hopped into the passenger seat, taking out a pocket knife- that was a gift from Geralt, then slashed it across the leather seats, making sure his name was very visible to the eye.

_I took a Louisville slugger to both_ _headlights_  
_I slashed a hole in all four tires_

Satisfied with the interior work, Julian skid out of the car and picked up a crowbar that was leaning against the garage's walls. With a loud cry, he smashed the front headlights, not blinking or flinching as glass flew in his direction.

One of the classic Apple ringtones echoed through the garage. Julian dropped the crowbar and walked over to the landing, picking up the phone then pressing the 'Accept Call' button.

"Jules, you didn't answer my text, are you alright?" Triss' worried voice spoke loudly on the other side, cars honking and passing by hinted that she was outside.

Julian looked back at the work he had done, a tear falling down his cheek while he smiled lightly. "I'm fine now, Triss," He croaked back, "would you mind if I stayed at yours for tonight? I'm not quite up to facing him at the moment."

"Of course, Jules, I got your back. Do you need me to pick you up, or are you going to take his Mercedes?"

Julian let out a shaky laugh, nodding to no one. "I don't think his car is in any condition to go anywhere at the moment. I'll see you in a few minutes."

_Maybe next time he'll think before he cheats_


	8. Before He Cheats - Part 2

The woman's name was Charlie. A 5'6" brunette with a low, messy bun wearing tight blue jeans that matched her eyes along with a white tank top. Beautiful would be the first word to describe the way she looked... until her face was fully revealed.

Her bottom lip was busted, and light bruising were seen under her left eye— makeup had been an attempt to hide it, but that hadn't worked out. It looked like she had pulled into a fight and lost.

Geralt had been half-wasted when she waltzed into the bar. A nasty case had been solved, and he didn't want to spend another thought about what he had done to finish it all. Four beers was all it could take for him to start losing his way.

"Rough day at work?" Charlie had spoken to him first, noticing the bags under his eyes as well as the scowl that reached his expression when she gestured to his badge. That said it all for her.

The end of the bar counter had been quiet— annoyed wasn't quite the right word to be used describing Geralt. "I'm here to drink alone."

Charlie only scoffed and pulled a seat beside him, leaning on her chin while looking him up and down. "Saturday night at this bar is not the day to drink alone, sir. For someone such as yourself, I'd suggest drinking at home."

 _Home. Julian._ Geralt frowned at the thought of what would happen if he were drinking like this at home. ' _I swear, Geralt, I will smack that bottle out of your hands and make you clean it up!_ ' That's what his beloved would say. Anything to keep him from drowning himself in his own misery. ' _There's better ways to deal with this, darling._ '

A grunt was the only reply. He needed to finish his beer before anything else.

"Well, you're quite the conversationalist." Charlie shot the rest of her own drink down. "Drinking isn't the only way to relieve yourself of stress you know."

At this point, the five beers had gotten to him. Gerald's body buzzed and his mind fogged over, leaving meaningless words to leave his lips without a mental stop sign. "Yeah? And what's your version? The bathroom? Back of someone's car?"

That had been exactly it, and the alcohol helped him make the poor decision that lead to Charlie's car.

Any sort of alcoholic beverage didn't stay too long in Geralts' system. An hour or two and it was all gone... it was one of the reasons why he didn't too much, or alone— because when he was wasted, his mind made stupid decisions.

Seeing himself in the backseat of a dodge naked with a woman under him snapped sobriety into his system; it had only taken an hour.

The thoughts running through his mind as he threw Charlie off of him whipped everything into shape. All of them ended up at the same road end: his boyfriend.

There was so much trust in their relationship... mistakes were rarely made, and if they were— they were small mistakes... nothing this big.

His heart thumped harder against his chest when an all too familiar curl-haired brunette met his eyes. _Triss_. _Fuck._

"You've finally done it, Geralt. Congratulations." Her tone was as cold as her expression. The hatred and anger burning in her chocolate eyes made Geralt seem incredibly small.

Triss took slow steps toward him. "I warned him, you know. About you and your past with others..." she shook her head at the memory: The sparks in her friend's eyes, the large smile on his lips. "He didn't listen, and I was okay with that for a while. But, here we are."

The detective folded his arms, shaking his head over and over again. "I-I didn't mean to, Triss, I was—"

"Save it for him," Triss snapped, jabbing her finger into Geralt's chest. "He deserves to hear your words, not me." She retracted with a small huff, turning away. "There's not an explanation that will switch his mind into instant forgiveness like usual, Geralt. You betrayed his trust, and that's that. You better hope he shows you more mercy than he showed anything else, otherwise you're in for a world of hurt."

-

"YOU MOTHERFUCKER!" A paperback version of ' _IT_ ' was the first object thrown at Geralt. "I TRUSTED YOU! I. TRUSTED. YOU."

Some would tell Julian that his reaction was completely unnecessary. That person either did not know him personally, or didn't know what he spent his paycheck on.

Geralt dodged the next wooden utensil and hurried over to his boyfriend, grabbing his forearms before anything else was thrown again. "Will you _please_ let me explain!" His voice was driven to a shout, something only used on the job. It would usually frighten Julian— but not this time.

"No!" Julian snatched his arms back and pushed Geralt away. "You don't get to explain shit! You went drinking, so that tells me your case ended badly, or you were just feeling something that made you want to get drunk! Then a woman comes along and you can't resist her! Please, Geralt, I damn well know how this ends!"

He knew how it ended from all the lovers before him. He knew all kinds of things that Geralt hadn't told him— because someone else had already told the story.

"I'm here for a reason!" Julian shouted, his voice slowly beginning to break. "I-I'm here if you need me! A shoulder to cry on, someone to talk to, someone to _love._ " He shook his head, scoffing lightly as a tear fell. "Not anymore... no... not after this." A velvet box was slammed into Geralt's hand. "Maybe next time you should think before you cheat— intentional or not."

After shooting his point, Julian stormed out of his apartment, ready to stay at Triss' for as long as possible.


	9. Before He Cheats - Part 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not want to hear any shit about this ending. I had enough of it on my Wattpad, okay?

Stopping things with Geralt had a HUGE affect on Julian- though he was the one who did it. What was even the _point_ in proposing to your lover if he had been with a woman for the night?

There wasn't one.

Julian fell into an easy routine after that. Wake up, make some coffee, strum on his guitar, have a few glasses of wine, then go to bed. The ability to make new music or converse with anybody was thrown out the window. He was _broken._

Triss didn't like seeing her friend like this one bit. Who would? The poor bastard was moping around her house, trying to find a new purpose without someone to love by his side. He was like a puppy, who instead of waiting for their master to come home, was abandoned and left to fend for themself.

It was depressing.

Geralt wasn't any better. He was more angry and irritated than usual. It wasn't toward anyone else- no, he was angry at himself.

It lead to recklessness on cases. The amount of times he was chewed up by the chief was ridiculous for someone like him. Even the chief himself was surprised, one of his best was off his rocker.

One of the people Geralt was close to in the force, or he stuck to him due to them being partners, Lambert, poked and prodded at it until Geralt snapped.

He exploded while on a missing persons case. Geralt ranted on how it was his fault for not going home, his fault for allowing the alcohol to get to him, his fault that he invited the girl into his car, _his fault Julian threw the engagement box at him._

Lambert was usually a jokester about everything. He'd send a little light onto a case and make fun of tiny things to get a kick out of Geralt. But this wasn't funny. Nope.

This was downright fucking depressing and annoying.

Drastic measures needed to be taken. As horrible as it might end, or as much as Julian's gonna hate it, it needs to happen. Because Triss doesn't know how much longer she can take her friend's shit.

Julian had been in the middle of writing a song when the doorbell rang. His imagination finally kicked in, giving him an idea for a song... a song about heartbreak. Perfect.

He set down his acoustic guitar with a huff, annoyed that he had to put the test on pause. Writing it on paper was one thing, playing it out right was a whole other.

The annoyance was quickly replaced by shock when the door swung open. " _Yennefer_?"

The raven-haired woman snapped her violet eyes up, rolling them. "Hello, Julian."

* * *

The couch had become quite a comfortable spot for Geralt to be. A whiskey glass in his hand, a case file and papers spread across the coffee table, and something playing on the TV. Multiple distractions at once kept him from thinking negatively or doing something stupid... or both.

There was a huge surprise when he heard the doorbell ring. No one visited him. _No one._ Not since-

Geralt shook his head and set his glass down. It had been a fine day without thinking about- nope. Not doing it.

But, there was no escaping the thought of his ex- because when Geralt looked through the peep-hole, there stood Julian, his eyes to the ground, and an uncomfortable look on his face.

The door was unlocked and cracked open, snapping the brunette's head up. "Julian? W-What're you doing here?" His tone was a tad harsh, their last encounter hadn't exactly been unicorns and rainbows.

"May I come in?" Julian whispered, loud enough for Geralt to hear. "Please?

The door was opened wider, allowing the brunette in. "Sure. This _is_ still your home." That forced Julian's heart to slam hard against his chest. The hurt mixed with the anger hurt him... and it made him realize what he had done to his- Geralt.

Julian looked around the living room, seeing papers scattered everywhere. He wanted to pick them all up and organize them into piles, or at least clear off half the table. And the way the kitchen was- coffee grounds still on the counter, a few cups in the sink, and the Keurig was still on.

"Good Lord, does tidiness not matter to you?" His old instincts kicked in, and he beelined to the kitchen. He turned off the machine and brushed the runaway grounds away from the counter and into the sink, going to clean the dishes next.

A snort cane from Geralt, who had his arms crossed and was leaning on the couch. "Never really has. You're the one that usually keeps everything up." The last bit was quieter, once again harsher than the rest. "What're you doing here? Have you come to clean up the apartment? You know I can do it myself, or hire someone."

Ah. Why he was here. Right. "Um... I've come to... apologize."

Geralt quirked an eyebrow up. "Why would you apologize? I'm the one who-"

"Yes. Yes you did," Julian interrupted, whipping his body around to face Geralt. "But the way that I responded... it was too much. You were drunk and probably didn't know what you were doing- but that also doesn't excuse what you did." He paused, taking in a short breath. "The damage to your car, the way I talked to you... I'm sorry."

He was _apologizing_. "Why? Why now? Why in _general_? What're you trying to accomplish by doing this?"

Julian held back a sigh and walked over to the couch, only to stop and lean on the counter, a few feet away from Geralt. "I want to make things right, is what I'm saying. I'm not saying that this will excuse both of our actions, but I think that we should... start over. Try again." Another pause, debating on whether to include who told him to do this.... no. Maybe not now. "Would you want to do that? Try again?"

 _Try again. Get back together. Be happy._ Geralt uncrossed his arms, letting out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. If he did this, the walls he had put right up would be taken down again, he would have to gain back all of Julian's trust, slowly but surely... "Are you sure you want to?"

Julian's mind was split in half on this. He had also put up walls, keeping everyone away from how he felt. He'd start all over, as if they were just meeting again... The fear of getting hurt like that again smacked him across the face, but then the feeling of having someone again healed over it. "I'm sure, Geralt."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End!


End file.
